


Love Confined

by magestyfandoms



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Blood and Violence, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Character Death, Correctional Officer Keith (Voltron), Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mafia Boss Lotor (Voltron), MafiaAU, Minor Character Death, Multi, Officer x prisoner, Prison Sex, Prisoner Lance (Voltron), Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Drugs, Top Keith (Voltron), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24894979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magestyfandoms/pseuds/magestyfandoms
Summary: Freedom is a privilege, that's what Lotor always reminded Lance. Freedom was earned not given, though when Lance attempts to fight, it backfires. Concluding in ultimately the annihilation of his sacred liberation.Yet, through love and deceit, he manages to figure a way to restore his independence. But will it end as catastrophically, as the last time he took matters into his own hands or will he finally be free of the burden he'd carried for the past three years?
Relationships: Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance/Lotor (Voltron), Matt Holt/Shiro
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	1. Anagapesis

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I've been super busy writing this new fic I've been wanting to do so here is the first chapter!
> 
> I truly hope you enjoy and if you haven't already check out my other series Twisted Truths.
> 
> This work has been edited but if any mistakes are in it please comment, all criticism is welcomed.
> 
> Also little fun fact, look up the chapter titles, they are rarely use words with deep meaning, and they relate to each chapter in some way.
> 
> -Magesty

If there was one thing he’d change about that night, it was to aim the gun a little higher. If he had done so, Lotor would be dead, and well, of course, he wouldn’t be sitting on a slightly uncomfortable mat, intended for sleeping. The walls were painfully bare, grey stacked bricks that cracked with age surrounded him and intensified his sense of ennui. The prison was worse than what Lotor and his men made it out to be. The lack of hospitality was awe-inducing, and not to mention the mandatory public urination was all too much to bear. 

His cellies were nowhere to be found, assuming he had two of them based on the bunk adjacent to his cot. He wondered if they would be tough and scary, like Lotor would describe when scaring him from the thought of jail.

Lance never thought that dating a ruthless mafia boss would end in him being caught guilty for attempted murder and accessory to murder. Maybe a drug charge or battery, those weren’t unthinkable of Lance, but attempting and assisting homicide was implausible. 

Now, ruthless was a bit of an understatement. Sadistic seemed more fitting to the platinum blond male. Like a knight in shining armor, after two months of romantic dates and gatherings, he extricated Lance from his humble apartment with only half functioning amenities. He whisked him away into a home of opulence and luxury. Though after around a year or so, his affection expired and was replaced with toxic dominance in all areas of life. The crime boss only yearned for an obedient lapdog, to flaunt towards business partners and his men. Lance was at a crossroads, he was hugely opinionated and really wasn’t much of a weak character, yet Lotor had a hold over him that only tightened the more he fought. Eventually, submission was Lance’s only option. His role as the boss’s partner soon demoted to a personal maid. 

_ “Did you know that the English origin of your name means servant? How appropriate, don’t you agree?”  _

At moments like that, Lance truly felt powerless, there was no escaping the physical or mental torture he had to endure from Lotor. He was confined, trapped, imprisoned if you will. One thing did become almost frighteningly accurate to Lance; nothing’s more dangerous than a cornered animal.

He had a few options to consider. Escape silently, which, without a doubt, would end in his demise or worse his recapture. The estate was enormous, and heavily guarded with men twice Lance’s size. Involve the authorities and risk it backfiring and ultimately ending in punishment of Lotor’s doing. Killing Lotor would result in his men either turning against him, helping Lance or continuing their loyalty, and serving the underboss Narti. Out of all his options ending Lotor seemed the most promising, his odds were good.

Now getting a hold of a gun was challenging, to say the least, he was only permitted inside the bedroom alone, and anywhere else he had to be accompanied by either Lotor himself or a guard. So the chance of him obtaining a weapon was limited to nonexistent, or so his captor thought. Lance scoffed, being able to attend meetings as an arm piece wasn’t so humiliating but truly rewarding. He gained valuable thinking skills and strategy enhancements, making it all the easier to gather a gun for himself.

Finding an ally amongst his loyal soldiers was the first step. Who was disciplined the most out of all the soldiers? Who might have animosity towards their feared boss? Surely a list could be made of the many people slighted by the devious man, though only one woman in truth stood out amongst the rest. Acxa had previously been used as Lotor’s source of pleasure before Lancewas brought into the picture. Though once she no longer served him in that way, he instructed her to remain a part of his ranks, instead of kicking her to the curb. To Lance, she was the most reliable of all the armed guards. 

Convincing her was shockingly easy. She sympathized with the tanned beauty, having been in his position previously. She often watched the doors to Lotor’s chambers, so conversation and planning for the escape were a frequent topic. 

Acxa had been briefed on a large shipment coming in on one of Lotor’s ports in a few weeks, requiring a lot of back up and personnel, leaving the mansion lightly secured. Lance assumed it was a drug shipment, or possibly weaponry restock of some sort. Regardless it had ‘opportunity’ written all over it. Having Acxa on duty to guard Lotor’s chambers that night, according to the schedule, was just the cherry on top. 

The day’s leading up to the ‘Great Escape,’ Lance found himself in his head quite often. He was a strong individual he liked to think. He attempted to escape on his first days in the mansion but soon saw his efforts were futile. He realized the hard fact that this would be the rest of his pathetic life, serving a wealthy kingpin, running a notorious drug cartel. Coming to terms with that hadn’t been easy; in fact, it was impossible. Escape plans riddled his brain, only none seemed possible until his latest scheme. The thoughts of never being touched without his consent, never being chained to a wall for speaking out of turn, being able to live again, they flooded his brain with hope. The hope taken from him the moment those towering mahogany doors closed behind him sealing his fate.

It surprised Lance that he hadn’t become a victim of Stockholm syndrome. Lotor truly knew how to manipulate situations, whether it be with his soothing praises after an unwarranted beating or using his tragic circumstances growing up without love to seek pity from the Cuban. Despite the convincing performances, Lance didn’t do much other than listen silently void of emotion. Even as the muscular man overpowered him, and pinned him to the satin sheets, Lance showed little to no feeling. Every cry or protest was another win in Lotor’s book. Unfortunately, Lotor did enjoy Lance’s rejection, the wins collected no matter the efforts.

Besides his continuous thinking, he mapped out his means of escaping. They’d meet at dinner where Acxa would bring his scheduled meal, in one of their metal trays. Underneath the lidding, would sit a semi-automatic pistol waiting for Lance’s touch. From there on, they would begin the walk to the office, where Acxa would take out opposing guards in the halls. Lastly, upon arrival, Lance would take his shot at Lotor ending the whole ordeal. Of course, afterward, he’d try convincing some men to help, and if he survives that far, then escape and never turn back. Even Acxa had her own plans to purloin Lotor’s bank vault full of cash and other valuables, the perfect head start to her new life. 

And at long last, the momentous day arrived. Lance awoke from the king-sized bed situated in the middle of the room. With a sigh, he stretched his long limbs and stood to look around, Lotor had already gone for the day’s activities. No doubt, he was in his office, plotting the shipment pickup planned for that night. Sitting in that brooding leather chair, surrounded by dark purple walls decorated in elegant paintings and decor. Dark purple walls soon to be stained red.

Like any other morning, he refreshed himself with a warm shower, applied generous amounts of lavender-scented moisturizer to his glowing skin, and dressed in one of the many outfits Lotor had tailored for him. He decided on a posh blue silk top, paired with dark grey slacks, and with the necessary adjustments, his clothes sat on him fittingly. He posed in front of the body length mirror, looking for any eyesores, finding none. He looked back at his reflection, staring deep into his own eyes. If eyes are windows to the soul, Lance was convinced he was soulless. He had been robbed of his essence and ardor with the long months he stayed captured.

Initially, he found his eyes to be his best quality, they were previously a striking blue with silver speckles spotted in his irises. He noted how now they seemed dull and dark like a stormy sky riddled with lightning and daunting gray clouds. 

Acxa walked in, drawing Lance’s calculating eyes to her figure. She was built similarly to Lance, lean muscle scaled up her long limbs, with a touch of a curve at the hips. It seemed like Lotor had a particular taste. She held a silver serving tray in hand, bearing Lance’s breakfast as per usual. Without missing a beat, he grasped the thin metal smelling the delicious aroma of poached egg and savory bacon laid over a slice of white toast. 

Arguably, Lance was treated like royalty. He was cooked extravagant meals, given abundant jewelry and accessories, as well as lavish attire. If only he wasn’t solely used for sexual favors and as a stand-in punching bag, he could see himself living a great life here. Not even the whole mafia boss thing was a turnoff, he wasn’t fazed in the slightest. If Lance was one thing he was very adaptable, he could fit into any crowd with ease, maybe it was because he wasn’t closed-minded in the slightest. Criminal mastermind, no biggie. 

The day progressed leisurely, not much was to be done except pace around the room in anticipation. Though the unexpected creak resounding from the door behind him caught Lance off guard and sent him spinning quickly on his heel. 

“Hello, darling,” Lotor purred, in his deep rich voice, almost taunting him. It reminded Lance of a predator and the way they eyed their prey. The way he slinked around him, inspecting every piece of fabric on his body. “You look absolutely ravishing.”

Lance grew familiar with Lotor’s compliments. What time did he receive them? What wording did he use? What was his tone? More often than not, they were used as an initiation to soften Lance up to what he was about to do. And just like almost all the other times, this was no different.

His face remained blank as he felt those abusive hands fall at his waist. He stood still, his breath halted to a steady rhythm, unwilling to melt into the trap that was Lotor’s embrace. Even when those intrusive hands found their way around the fastenings to his tunic and slacks, he remained motionless. At times like this, he tried to imagine he was back into his old life. Newly graduated from university, beginning his journey to self-discovery and independence. Residing in his dainty apartment with all of the small knick-knacks hanging on the walls.

It worked for the most part, for when his focus returned, he was laid out on the bed exposed to the chilling air. It began to get trickier to disassociate from the present as his body’s natural hunger began to arise, the firmness of his length growing at a rapid rate. Nothing about his situation turned him on mentally, but Lotor’s hands were impressive in more ways than one.

Soon the touching was accompanied by open mouthed kisses against his neck, then trailing down his chest before carrying down to his crotch. Lance trained his eyes to the ceiling where swirling off white patterns decorated the plaster. The warmth and wetness he felt engulf his member triggered a whine to form in his throat. He willed it away, continuing his stoic expression, he felt like his body and mind were at war, and he was stuck in the middle of it all. 

His escape would come in a few hours, the cold metal of the gun would sit comfortably in his hand, and deliver a murderous shot to the man sucking him off. No longer would he have to lay on this bed as he was ravished by this bastard. 

Pressure built at the pit of Lance’s stomach as he felt himself reach closer to his climax. His eyes studied the patterns above, ignoring his torture that was masked as pleasure. Every orgasm betrayed Lance’s rejection and only encouraged more from Lotor. 

Thankfully he felt the mouth around him leave easing his arousal, but before he could chant silent prayers under his breath, he was flipped onto his stomach. This was one of the most frequently preferred positions Lotor would use, it was the most painful as well. 

The throbbing stretch of his tight hole sent a pained whine through Lance’s mouth. Inch by inch, he was filled, the pain immeasurable as it expanded from inside him through his lower back. The pillows in front of him crinkled as his thin fingers grasped at the fabric desperately. It was hard to think of other matters, especially with his body lurching back and forth relentlessly. 

The pain was no stranger to Lance, more like an old friend. Every day of his life for the past year had been filled with nothing but pain. It ate away at him, turned his mind dark and cold, he lost a part of himself he’d never get back.

All at once, his climax racked through him, his body shook, and his hands gripped tighter at the cushion. Lance clamped his mouth shut to mute the sounds attempting to echo out, his teeth ached from the tight clench of his jaw. Promptly Lotor followed, his seed spilling forth into Lance. Filthy was the only suitable word for how he felt, utterly filthy. Cum seeped from his entrance and dripped down his thighs. His toned stomach was also covered with his own release. All strength in his body left him as he fell limp onto the bed, all he could think was it would all be over soon.

“I hope you enjoyed that darling, I won’t be going so easy on you later tonight of course.” Lotor’s minty breath blew against the back of his neck, with smugness laced into his words.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Lance stated coldly, as he slowly recovered. His recuperation was put to a halt as his head yanked back. Strands of his hair went taught as his scalp stung with pain. Thick fingers laced through his chocolate brown locks angrily. 

“Excuse me?” A mistake Lance frequently made was speaking back. Only if asked a question was he allowed to talk unless he suddenly had a change of heart and wanted to sweet-talk Lotor. That was never the case, which often ended in a few slaps, being choked out, hair pulling, or rough sex. The hair pulling was the lightest of the punishments, and Lance was grateful it escalated no further. 

After a short while, Lotor left with a new outfit adorned to his body. And just like earlier that morning, Lance pulled himself together and freshened up. This time when he looked in the mirror, he smirked, he knew that it was the last time he’d feel that suppressing weight over him again.

The time had come, and dinner arrived. With gelled back hair, an ironed white dress shirt, and dark blue slacks, he was dressed to the nines. He looked sinisterly handsome, and his looks could kill. Lance chuckled at the thought, Lotor would soon figure that out.

Acxa was dressed in her usual apparel, a black pantsuit with the gun holsters at her thighs filled. She had her short black hair pulled back with two silver clips. She looked deadly, how fitting, Lance noted. 

He retrieved the gun from the tray and sneered, “You know, I’ve dreamt about this almost every night leading up to now.” He got used to the feeling of its weight, the intimidating power that he now held. 

“C’mon let’s go, we only got one shot at this Blue,” She directed as she pulled the two guns at her thighs up and ready to fire. Lance hummed at the nickname she assigned him, mainly because he was always adamant about wearing a blue shade at all times. The color looked incredible on him, why not wear things that look great?

Acxa looked over her shoulder to make sure Lance stood behind her. As soon as she deemed they were ready, she opened the door quietly. The hall was empty and quiet; the guards patrolled a little farther up at the next turn. With quick steps, Lance followed behind closely, his breathing calm and regulated. He felt nothing but calmness run over him, even as they approached the first turn in the hall. 

Though he knew what came next, he felt startled by Acxa’s jump into action. She swiftly dodged the shots coming at her and Lance and sent two times the number of bullets into the guards ahead. One by one, the heavy bodies fell, blanketing the dark hardwood floorings.

They pushed forward, taking two more turns, Acxa riddling the attacking men’s bodies with metal casings. The sight of death hardly fazed Lance anymore, he had seen Lotor execute countless of the men that betrayed him or served no purpose to him anymore. The first time haunted him for months, but as they became more of a regular thing, Lance grew the stomach for it. Though he had seen it first hand, it was much different than killing someone himself. Sure, Lotor deserved it, but his heart raced, thinking of his own finger pulling the trigger. 

“Alright, Blue, it’s all you,” her head nodded ahead at the large doors leading to the office. “We still got the element of surprise cause of the silencers on these bad boys.”

She waved her guns about, and Lance nodded. With a few steps, he marched ahead, his back straightened, and chin tilted high. The dark wooden doors towered from the floor to the tall ceilings, casting a chilling shadow over him. He was ready, strength surged through him from his chest down his torso all the way to his toes. He arched back, raising his knee to send a powerful blow to the door. 

As expected, the timber flung off its hinges, revealing his target lounging back in his leather chair. The lean muscle on his arm flexed as he raised the firearm up carefully, seeing Lotor’s face pricelessly satisfied the lethal man. And with that, he pulled the trigger.

Pain washed over Lotor’s face as a red stain spread across the material of his grey shirt. Lance gulped, realizing his aim had been miscalculated, landing his shot right below his rib. It was far towards his side, most probably missing any vital organs. 

Following immediately after, two more shots sounded from behind him. He turned rapidly and was met with Acxa’s wide eyes. Her body leisurely fell to the floor; within seconds, she laid there lifelessly. A guard from earlier slumped against the wall, barely clinging to consciousness, arm up aiming now at Lance. 

“Don’t!” Lotor’s voice boomed from behind Lance, it was strained from the pain but still firm and evidently alive. “Stand down.” Lance quickly turned again and raised the gun back to finish the job, but unlike the first time, the trigger halted. The weapon, of course, had jammed. 

“Let me go!” Lance seethed as he threw the gun at Lotor angrily. “Find some other bitch, I’m done.” 

“Correct. You are done, though I commend you. You really could have succeeded. Narti, do come out, please.” Soft footsteps clacked against the wood flooring, revealing Narti’s presence from beside a large wooden wardrobe.

“I dialed the authorities and sent word to the remaining guards to hide any incriminating evidence against us, sir. We also cleared your room of any of this whore’s personal belongings, he has no link tracing back to us.” Her monotonous tone rang dully giving a full report in a matter of seconds. She flashed a quick glance at Lance, tracking up his body all the way to his dark eyes, her glare chilled him to the bone. A silent look was all it took to know Lance was in deep shit.

“Great work. Ah, darling…” Lotor stood, a tense hand clasped against his wound, “You should’ve been much more discreet about your assassination attempt, you forget I have eyes  _ everywhere.”  _ Lotor smirked as he heard faint sirens echo around the exterior of the building, “Now, the police will knock down my front doors, charge into my home, see all the men and women in those hallways dead and blown to pieces, and what will they think? Well, I am unarmed as well as Narti, I also happen to be shot. And you darling, well, your prints are all over that gun, and you’ve got some blood on your shoes, from the countless guards you assisted in killing.” He rounded the desk and stopped short right in front of Lance, “So I ask you, is prison truly what you hoped for in your great escape?”

Lance swayed, his weight unbalanced with the whiplash of information being thrown at him. He was moronic to think that Lotor hadn’t bugged the room. Resulting in such a flawless counter-attack. If what Narti said was right, he would seem like a random murderer, attempting to kill a wealthy businessman. This couldn’t be right, there had to be some evidence, some way to clear this all up, get Lotor locked up, and just be free. But as he felt himself being dropped to his knees, and solid metal snaking around his wrists, he knew, Lotor had won the war.


	2. Eleutheromania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 2 out! yayy
> 
> Okok so if any of you are here from my other fic Twisted Truths, no worries I will be updating in the next few days. I just needed to take a short creative break to gather my ideas and thoughts for the story.
> 
> If you have concerns or any criticism, it is always welcomed so comment if you'd like, I respond to all!
> 
> -Magesty

“Lance McClain, you are under arrest for accessory to murder and attempted murder against Lotor Daibazaal. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.” A stern voice rang loud in Lance’s ears. Everything Narti had reported was right, the cops had no idea of the real story. And regardless of the erratic pleads leaving his mouth, no one was there to listen. He was dragged from the office through the halls, the same ones he imagined he would be going through freely. The exact opposite was true; still, he was imprisoned, just with a change of scenery.

Blinded by blue and red lights, Lance lowered his head, almost shamefully so. The officers surrounded him as well as the alive and well soldiers Lotor had supposedly sent for a shipment. Was that a lie as well? The truth seemed to be the only thing he could rely on in this hell, but with that taken, he had nothing. Even as he stumbled across the pavement, the officers yanked him upright. The pain seemed to follow no matter the destination. 

The police car door opened and revealed black suede seats, and directly in front of them were iron bars separating the driver and passenger seat from himself. He wasn’t a cold, calculating, killer- well, he was that, but only under particular circumstances. And surely he wouldn’t be guilty of said crimes if that was known to them. Aggressively he was shoved into his seat, and the door slammed shut. The windows were tinted darkly, adding a darker shade over the scene before him.

A stretcher was driven down the long cement pavement, and atop was Lotor bleeding from his side. His steel eyes pierced through Lance’s own blue ones. Almost boasting, his victory. A gasconade if you will. Nevertheless, the stretcher carried on into the ambulance parked at the ready. 

Lance turned his head forward as a man entered the front of the vehicle. The driver was a darker gentleman, possibly late fifties. His chin was patchy with thick black hair, and none was on his dome. The unusual thing about him was the black eye patch concealing his left eye, making him all the more intimidating. 

“Please hear me out, I was held captive by Lotor! I only did what I did to escape, they are all criminals! Every single one of them works in this mafia family, or like a cartel- I don’t know! But they are setting me up!” His pleads were pitiful and seemed to be reaching no one’s ears. He huffed, looking around the car, he even attempted to test his limited strength against the steel handcuffs.

The drive to the station was long and tense. The night sky twinkled through the dark windows, captivating Lance’s gaze. Night always fascinated him, space and the planets were intriguing as well. Hopefully, he’d get a window in his cell, he thought dismally.

Upon arrival at the station, the driver removed him from the car and ushered him through the front doors. It was a small sheriff’s station, with investigation rooms lined against the walls. Three officers chauffeured Lance towards one of the rooms, all with cold looks on their faces. 

The investigation room was made of black walls and ceiling, a large mirror alongside the wall opposite to him. A guard removed his cuffs and pushed him to sit in the chair half-tucked into the white table centered in the room. Lance had watched enough crime tv to know he was about to be drilled hard. If he told the absolute truth, then undoubtedly he would be proven innocent. 

A woman with long silver hair entered the room minutes later. She was stunning, her dark skin contrasted well against her light locks and grey eyes. She wore a dark blue blazer and matching dress pants. At first, she looked like a businesswoman, but the FBI badge hooked to her waistband said otherwise.

“Hello Lance, I am Allura Brooks, I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations,” she pushed towards him a bottle of water and smiled softly. “Care for a drink?” Lance took the bottle gratefully and chugged it’s contents. He felt partially at ease with this woman, her accent was airy and encouraging. 

He placed his beverage down and looked at her straight on. “I’m not a murderer.”

Lines grew at the sides of eyes as she smiled a fraction wider, “I don’t recall suggesting that title towards you.” Her back straightened, and she leaned forward on her elbows, “Why don’t you start with when this all began?”

Lance did just that; he described the moment he met Lotor. He had been a waiter at the La Nuit Étoilée, a popular french brasserie in Altea. Lotor was a courteous and refined gentleman, who tipped very well the first night Lance served him. Of course, they continued small talk that night, and soon he began seeing him as a regular customer. At first, he was all in it for the generous tips, but soon feelings began to develop.

One thing led to another, and they dated for a short two months. Two months until Lance was brought to the estate. Lance was loved and cared for, so he thought for the year following the move, and he honestly couldn’t be happier. Then unexpectedly, fights began to arise between the couple. Moral values were unbalanced between them, and arguments ended with Lance being berated and scolded. The reprimand soon developed into more physical discipline; beatings and unwarranted roughness in bed.

The red flags were alarming for Lance, and before things even got physical, he attempted to leave. That ended in him being locked in the bedroom unless it was one of the three meal times during the day. Ultimately it was changed to, only when accompanied by other persons, that was Lance’s punishment for speaking out of turn. 

After explaining the events leading up to his failed escape, he paused and grabbed a sip of water, his throat was unusually dry. “He is this manipulative man who always gets away with what he wants. And now I’m paying for it once again.”

“So you spoke of him partaking in illegal activities, care to elaborate?” Allura questioned as she pulled a small notepad from her pocket. She clicked her pen with her thumb and readied her hand to write.

“He’s the boss of this mafia family or something,” Lance explained his hands waving as he spoke, “his father passed years ago, and apparently the family business is a drug operation.”

“So he’s a mafia boss?” She asked, raising a brow skeptically.

“Yeah, I know I didn’t believe it either. But Lotor told me after moving me in, and I was angry for him waiting so long to tell me. Still, I stayed with him, and I was previewed to his lifestyle.”

“Lifestyle? Was he personally selling drugs, did he have sellers underneath him? How did it all work?” Her pen flew across the pages rewriting Lance’s words into a bulleted list.

“It was him at the head, he ran the whole show. Sorted meetings, gathered partnerships with other families, and earned the most. His underboss is Narti, she’s this really scary chick- looks kinda like a cat if you ask me. Anyway, she is Lotor’s personal guard and assistant if you will. If Lotor’s not around, then all power transfers to her. His capos are Zethrid and Ezor, they aren’t so bad, they used to be real nice to me before the whole rapunzel situation.” Lance waited for Allura to get it all down. He smiled at himself, feeling that the investigation was going the right way. “There’s a bunch of soldiers and associates that I don’t know of though. And Acxa, who was the woman that helped me escape, was also one of his capos.”

“Okay, and can you explain to me your reasoning for attempting to assassinate Mr. Daibazaal?” Her eyes focused on Lance’s every move. Sweat pooled at his lower back, the pressure intensifying.

“He raped me every day more than once. He beat me countless times just for talking back. I was locked in his bedroom for days on end, only allowed to leave with a babysitter. He humiliated me and flaunted me as his sex toy in front of all his men and partners. I was in a living hell.” He felt his eyes water as he restated his abuse. Lance typically refrained from crying, it only made Lotor more upset. But the moments when Lance was alone, he’d let the tears flow freely until he had no more tears to cry.

“I see,” Allura cleared her throat and placed her pen down. She folded her hands in her lap and looked over him. “I am truly sorry for all that’s happened to you…”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.” Lance finished for her as he hugged himself tighter.

“Yes, well, my team is currently searching the premises of the scene, and we haven’t found a trace of you in the home or outside. So there are two possible answers to this, let’s say mystery. The first is you’re an excellent liar, and you are very good at manipulating others. Or we have something much bigger on our hands.” Abruptly she stood and rounded the table, leaning her bottom against the edge, “So tell me, are you telling the complete truth, Lance?” 

“Yes, I swear.” He leaned back in his chair, intimidated by her powerful aura. “You have to believe me.”

“Alright. And let’s say if I do believe your story...we still don’t have any evidence in your favor. Just a pistol covered in your fingerprints, 17 corpses from the scene, and two alive witnesses ready to testify against you.” Her tone was firm and blunt. Lance appreciated the ‘no-bullshit-straight-to-the-point-’ demeanor.

“So, there’s no way I can win this case, is what you’re saying.” Lance mumbled quietly. He picked at the seam to the tattered tunic he wore. Lotor always won no matter the move Lance made.

“It is highly unlikely, yes, but I think we can use that to our advantage.” Her smile returned, but it had a more crafty feeling behind it this time around.

“Our advantage?”

She paced around the room, with her arms crossed, “Indeed. I believe that Lotor happens to be the person responsible for the corruption taking place in Altea. So let’s make a deal.” Allura took a seat once again and collected her pen and notepad. “If you plead guilty at court, you will automatically receive a sentence. And when you get incarcerated, you can serve as a bug in prison, feeding us any intel on the inside regarding Lotor’s operation.” She stated simply.

“Wait, so you want me to plead guilty to attempted murder and accessory to murder? Are you insane? I’ll be locked up for my whole life, probably!” He stood, angrily waving his hands about.

“That’s where you’re incorrect. If you agree to help us take Lotor down, then we will be willing to exonerate you of your case and charges. I’m not sure how long you will be in custody, but maybe that’ll persuade you to take this seriously, and do anything in your power to get the info we need.”

“Is this legal?” Lance said, plopping back into his chair.

“Well, there are certain rules on this agreement, but don’t you worry about that, I have connections with the right people.” Her smirk tilted upward, absolutely calculating. “So Lance McClain, when the sheriff enters this interrogation room, what will you say?”

“He was extremely successful, and my partner Acxa and I decided to attempt a robbery on Lotor. It ended horribly wrong.” Lance claimed in a convincing tone. His face was determined, his brows drawn close together.

“Perfect, I expect great things from you.” She held a hand out to Lance, who accepted it willingly. “Mind you, this stays between you, me, and my team at the bureau. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded as he swallowed thickly. 

Allura left the room shortly after leaving Lance to his intrusive thoughts. His mind spun, the past hour had sent him spiraling, and he couldn’t catch hold of his feelings. He was arrested and now working for the FBI. He didn’t know how to react, what to say, or what to do. He was at a loss for words and well actions.

It was as if he had been placed in the middle of a shitty storyline to a poorly-made teen novel. Primarily Lance worried about the inmates he would deal with, would they take advantage of him? Did the FBI grant him protection? Likely not, since he was undercover and all. Lance had his doubts about whether he would survive this experience.

Then again, taking down Lotor was a close second place to having him dead, so why not? He had no other choice unless he was willing to embrace the color orange as his new look. And the bland meals he would be prepared each morning, afternoon, and evening. Or the frightening men he’d eat, bathe, and live with. Yeah, he really did not have another choice.

The man he identified as his driver stepped into the room. The sleeve of his right arm wore a patch inscribed, ‘Altea Sheriff,’ and Lance’s heart skipped a beat. Adjacent to it, on the man’s chest, was a metal name tag that read, ‘C. Iverson.’ Lance made a mental note to remember that.

“Alright. Lance, was it? Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened there tonight.” Iverson interrogated accusingly, his eyes were cast downwards towards Lance as he towered over him.

“It was a robbery gone wrong…” Lance feigned remorse, sniffling softly while he dried non-existent tears from his eyes. “Acxa an I just wanted to make some quick cash, we didn’t know he had so much security,” he faked a sob, “I told her to take them out, and that we couldn’t have any witnesses. Then we got to the office where we assumed he kept his valuables, and he was there.” Lance plucked a tissue from the box to his left and blew his nose, “I shot Lotor, with him not around there wouldn’t be any witnesses.”

Iverson signed, “So all of that screaming earlier of being kidnapped was a cover-up?” He sat across from Lance, now eyeing him carefully.

“Yes, but now I can’t cover it up, I feel so horrible about it.” Lance cried out, theatrically as he put on a show for the man.

“Alright well, the other party Lotor Daibazaal, is going forth with pressing charges. And you have confessed to the crime so I can assume you will plead guilty?” His gruff voice resonated with Lance. He was really pleading guilty to a crime he didn’t commit. His faith wavered, but finally, he nodded in affirmation.

“Yes.”


End file.
